"Woman in the Lap of Death"
(a woodcut by Käthe Kollwitz)
She sleeps, now, like a child, she has forgotten.
Only the bones remember, now, within --
sharp, silent bones, tight still
under the skin.
His hand supports exhaustion like a cradle;
grief is defended in his dark, stare;
these enormous tender angles make
room for despair.
Return to contents